These Four Walls
by ToxThexMoonxAndxBack
Summary: The story of a young girl named Shelagh and everything she did to find herself and to find the life she wanted. (Shelagh's POV eventual turnadette based on the song by Little Mix)
1. Chapter 1

an: Song fic to These Four Walls by Little Mix I down own the song or show

XxX

'I feel so numb staring at the shower walls.'

_Scotland, 1937. _

I wish I could tell you what was going through my mind that day but I can't. It was somewhere between everything and nothing but that's the best description I can give you. It was like I didn't have to think about what I was doing I just did. My body moved, my eyes saw but nothing registered. I was numb yet I felt like I had been punched in the stomach and I felt sick. I didn't cry though, not in front of them. Mama always said crying only made the pain hurt more.

My mother was now dead, and my father wasn't home yet. I had no other family to understand my pain. Only the housekeeper, Mrs Shaw, the Doctor and the vicar. Their pitying looks I can still see even now.

Mrs Shaw kept saying how I needed to be a brave girl and that I was the lady of the house now. I didn't want to be though. I was eight years old, all I wanted was my parents.

She told me to wash and go to bed. Normally after my father had been on a business trip I would to wait up for him so I could see him when he got home. This day was different though.

I locked the bathroom door and began running the water. It was only then I allowed myself to cry. The tears mixed with the droplets on my face and my gentle sobs were masked by the sound of the tap.

I subconsciously scrubbed my skin till it was raw and washed my long blonde hair so it stuck damp against my face.

I don't know how long I spent staring the wall, long enough to know where every crack started and ended. It wasn't till I looked in the mirror to put my hair into two neat plaits to keep my curls that I was pulled back to reality when I saw I had my mothers eyes.

I got into bed, clutching my tattered teddy bear to me as though my life depended on it. Downstairs I could hear Mrs Shaw and the Doctor talking.

"What will happen to Shelagh?"

"I'm not sure I understand Dr Campbell?"

"Her father spends an awful amount of time away instead of here, I understand it was Mrs Mannion who ran the farm."

"Mr Mannion adores Shelagh and I have faith in that." She stopped as I heard the front door open. My father was home.

"What's happening?" I heard the worry in his thick accent as it rang through the house.

I put my hands over my ears so I couldn't hear his grief. It was at that moment I realised I had to be the strong one, I needed to be. I never wanted to hear my father cry again and if hiding my pain lessened his then that's what I would do, for however long it took.


	2. Chapter 2

An: Please review xxx

XxX

'Its begun the feeling that the end has come and now the waters cold.'

I must've fallen asleep eventually, I didn't dream anything though. It was like no matter if I was awake or if I was asleep, all I saw was black. Everything was empty.

I slid out of bed at seven like I did every morning to get ready for school, I didn't expect anything to have changed. To be honest I didn't want anything to have changed, I just wanted to carry on like things had been before. That way I could pretend that nothing had happened. I thought that might make it all a bit easier. I got dressed and let my blonde curls fall around my face. Finally I took a deep breath before making a fake smile at my reflection. _Nothings changed. _But it had. I didn't realise then that pretending nothing had happened would only cause myself and others around me more pain in the future.

It's a lot to have happen at such a young age, losing someone you love. My mother was a very kind woman, she was beautiful, strong and everyone loved her. I grew up on a farm in Scotland which she was in charge of. I loved living on the farm. It was peaceful, it was quiet. I liked the quiet. Mother liked it too. She said it gave her time to think. I guess I was too young to ask what it was she would think about.

I went downstairs for breakfast, Mrs Shaw informed me that my father wouldn't be joining us.

"You're not going to school for a few days, Shelagh." She said softly setting a glass of water in front of me. "Give the other children a chance to catch up with you."

I could see she was trying to make me smile but I couldn't think of a decent reply.

"Your father is going into the village today to speak to Reverend Hardy." She explained, he was going to have to arrange my mother's funeral of cause. "He says you're free to wander as you wish."

"Is father up?" I asked hopefully.

"Not yet dear..." She sighed and I bit my lip. Father was normally up with dawn chorus.

"Is he okay?"

She took a moment, obviously choosing her words carefully. "Your father is, understandably, very upset. He is going to need sometime..." She stopped. "Come on drink up."

I did as I was told. I picked up the glass, I sipped and sipped and sipped it. The water was cold and ran down my throat as my teeth chattered against the glass. It was a distraction, I knew that, and I needed it. The feeling of the freezing liquid was the only thing that made me realise, this wasn't all some kind of nightmare. I was very awake, and this was all very real. I didn't want it to be.

I asked to be excused then picked up my satchel filling it with a sketch book and some pencils.

"Are you going somewhere, Shelagh?" Mrs Shaw asked.

"Just going to walk through the fields." I said and she threw me an apple.

"Come back when you're hungry."

"I will." I called over my shoulder. I added 'probably' onto the end of my sentence before leaving the house needing some time of my own to be able to think about what was happening.

It was July so the sun was already warm on the top of my head so I sat under the oak tree that I always like to sit under on days like that. I found myself wondering how old it was, very old I guessed. I wondered, if it could talk, what stories it would tell me. _You're cracking up, Shelagh._ I told myself. _Talking trees?_

I took out my sketch book and began sketching the field. I liked drawing as much as the next girl, I liked writing stories and singing too, father said I had an over active imagination. I thought nothing of it and mama always encouraged me. I kept thinking about my father, he always took breakfast with us. What if this was the start of something, what if I had lost him as well as my mother? What then?

I spent most of my day by that tree finishing my picture, underneath I titled it and signed it like I always did to try and make it seem more professional.

'_Mama's field' Shelagh Mannion 1937._


	3. Chapter 3

An: sorry for any mistakes but I'm not changing anything.

XxX

'I tried to eat today but the lump in my throat got in the way'

Everything changed after Mama died. My father worked for longer. I was lucky if I saw him one week to the next. Doctor Campbell was right and Mrs Shaw was wrong. She said Dad wouldn't leave me. It felt like he had. He would drink, smoke and work, nothing else. I'd not only lost my mother, but my father too and I was alone. I was left in the care of Mrs Shaw but about three months after Mother died she resigned. She said it wasn't her job to look after me. Not that I took much looking after. I guess she just didn't want the responsibility. I couldn't blame her for that.

I remember the last night she was at the house. She sat opposite me at the dinner table and I stared blankly at my plate. I kept thinking about my parents and how everything we had was broken, it brought a lump to my throat that I couldn't shift. I thought about school and how the teachers would tip toe around me like with one wrong word I would shatter. Maybe I would. I felt bad, I wanted to pick up my fork but I doubted anything I ate would stay down.

"Eat up, Shelagh." She promoted but I pushed my plate away.

"I'm sorry but I'm not hungry."

"Shelagh..." She sighed.

"Please can I go to my room?"

"Very well."

I got down from the table and walked to the door. "Goodbye Mrs Shaw." I said and said a quite goodbye in reply. I never saw her again.

I knew that from that moment on I would be taking care of myself. I got into a routine. I would get up, got to school, come home and go to sleep before the the cycle started again. I always felt tired, no matter how much I slept. Everyday felt like the day before.

As time went on not much changed, I did though. I got older and stronger and quieter. I sought solace in the bible, I guess I needed some form of comfort and if I was to find it books so be it. I didn't sing or draw anymore, I wrote a lot though, mainly a diary. It's strange the things you do when you have nothing else.

I watched my father get worse, I tried to help him but it's almost impossible to help someone who doesn't want to be helped. After a while I just stopped trying. He didn't seem to care that it was just the two of us now, that we had to look after each other. He became like a stranger, the man I'd known to be my father was gone and this wreck of left in his place. I felt like he was being selfish, he didn't cared how I was feeling, how mother's death had effected me. How I had to hold my head up and pretend everything was okay because he wasn't about to. It's hard to be expected keep a stiff upper lip, even harder as a child.

Most people would've hated him for this, I however couldn't. I just kept counting down the days till I could leave as I no longer felt at home on the farm, but I was unaware that my father was slowly getting closer towards an early grave.


	4. Chapter 4

An: quite short. Please review. Xx

xxx

'In this time I've lost all sense of pride.'

I guess I saw it coming but that still didn't prepare me for the bluntness of how I was informed. I was sixteen years old and had been through enough already. They just came out with it. Your father is dead. I didn't cry. I didn't scream or shout. I wanted to. But I didn't. Not because I was to full of pride, I'd lost that a long time ago but because it had been a long time since I'd cried in public. I wasn't a child anymore. I was Miss Shelagh Mannion, now head of the family.

My first thought was that I could leave. I didn't know where I was going to go but that house in Scotland was filled with too many ghosts. No one judged me for wanting to leave or told me I was too young to either. They knew just how hard the past few years had been on me. They'd seen the way I'd gone from being the funny little girl into a serious young woman, a quiet woman but someone who knew her own mind. They also knew it was not up to them to stop me. They were not my family. I didn't have a family, not anymore.

My father had been ill a while, the doctor tried to explain it must've been to do with his drinking. I knew that anyway. He drank a lot, but the times when he didn't I treasured. He wasn't like my father anymore, more like a friend, someone who needed my help. I still loved him dearly, just not in the same way as I once did.

I'd known for a long time that I wanted to be a nurse, I wanted to help people. People who actually wanted to get better.

My father's funeral happened and then it was time, time for me to leave. It was difficult but I knew it was the right thing to do. So I left. Just like that. I was going to do my studying in London.

Before I left though I visited my mother's grave and placed some new flowers. I didn't come often, not as often as I should. I didn't like going. It upset me. I still missed my mama. Every day I would think about her, it had been so long but she was still at the front of my thoughts. Maybe because everything around me was a constant reminder to me that she was dead. A constant reminder of how everything had changed.

That's why I had to leave. I had to get away from everything.

"Hey mama..." I said quietly as I put the flowers down. "I hope you and Dad find each other up there...I know you will. At least he'll be happy now. He was so sad when you died...but of cause I'm sure you saw all that..."

She paused. "Just tell him I don't blame him...that I love him. Bye mama..."

I blinked hard before standing up straight. This was me, starting over.


	5. Chapter 5

An: I got annoyed at this chapter haha. Please review, hopefully the next one will be better/longer. Xxx

XxX

'I've called a hundred times'

I sat on the bench watching the world go by around me. I did this often. I had found the bustle of my new home fascinating when I first arrived. The part of Scotland I had lived in had been quiet, I used to love it but I guess as I grew older and found myself in a house of silence I longed for other voices. New people. A fresh start. That's what I had made for myself.

I tried to never think about my past. Those years on the farm. The way I would cry myself to sleep because I was afraid, afraid of what I would wake up to. Would Dad still be there? Could I keep hiding the fact I was raising myself? I made a promise to myself on those nights that one day I would find where I truly belonged. I would find a life where I wouldn't be afraid or alone anymore.

My thoughts were suddenly interrupted.

"Happy birthday." Two voices said making me jump.

I saw my friends, twins Pollyanna and Christopher, beaming at me. "20 today darling." Polly smiled as they took a seat either side of me.

They each handed me a neatly wrapped gift, it was obvious Polly had been in charge there. She and Chris were the first friends I'd made in London, Polly had been a nurse student too. They were good people. Me, Polly and Chris, who was a law student, became close. They thought I was nice and normal too and I wanted to keep it that way too. I don't know what they would have said if I'd ever told them about my my childhood, we'll never know now. The fact I hadn't told them anything about me meant I could never fully forget it and it made me feel more alone than ever.

"Thank you." I said as I let Polly hug me. "You didn't need to."

Polly and Chris laughed, they were always in sync.

"Of cause we did, Silly." Polly said, her ginger curls falling in front of her eyes.

I gently pulled the ribbon from Polly's present and the paper fell in my lap to reveal a note book.

"You always tell us you used to write." She explained.

Chris' present was a broach of a butterfly. "Blue, Polly said it would bring out your eyes or something."

I laughed before hugging him. "Thank you both, it's beautiful."

"Anything for you, Shelagh." Polly said, as much as I loved them both I still didn't fit in. I was still living a life where I felt like everyday I was lying to myself. I wanted to hide. I wanted to go somewhere I couldn't be found.

Every time I looked in the mirror I saw the little girl who'd just lost her mother staring back at me. I felt I was letting her down.

A nagging thought entered my mind. '_There's still a place you could..._.' I know. I told myself. '_You know He is the only person you've ever had trust in.'_

That thought settled it. I knew where I was going. I didn't know how to break it Polly and Chris though, how to tell them I was leaving, so I didn't. It was like for the second time I was having to start over. I wrote to them explaining where I was going. A goodbye would've been too difficult.

I had to spend a few months at the mother house in Chichester. I remember going to call them many many times but every time they picked up I would put the phone down. I had to focus, I wasn't Shelagh anymore and part of me was happy with that.

I didn't like Shelagh. She was not the person I wanted to be, at least not then anyway, now I'm happy being Shelagh. I had been many people since my mother died though; a daughter, a carer, a friend, a strong person, a quiet person; I was like an actress and each time my performance got more convincing. Sister Bernadette was a role I took to and I do not in any way regretting becoming her as for the first time in a long time I felt needed, and loved. I wasn't alone or afraid anymore.


	6. Chapter 6

'If I hear your voice I'll be fine'

Joining the order helped me a lot. I loved my sisters dearly and I learnt many things - I learnt how to put things behind me.

Sister Julienne took me under her wing from day one as though I was her own daughter, so I felt a strong connection with her. It had been a long time since I'd been anyone's daughter. Sister Evangelina took a shine to me I think because I was the only one who wasn't scared of her; she taught me being strong for others was all well and good but it was useless if you tortured yourself. Sister Monica Joan taught me many things too, not just how to love cake, but that love and kindness cost nothing and healed many wounds. However even after all of this none of it prepared me for the challenges I was to face.

It all started I guess when Dr Turner was telling me about his son Timothy and how he was worried that the first Christmas without his mother might upset him. I told him how I lost my mother when I was very young, I could see when his eyes locked with mine that he was about to ask me more but Trixie interrupted. In a way I was glad that she did because I'm not sure what I would've told him.

It was like we had a connection after that, when the Carter twins delivery was other we stood out side together mulling over everything that had happened. He offered his cigarette to me and I discovered be smoked the same kind as my father. I told him how I used to take one from his office when I was 14, I felt a strange pang go through my heart when I told him that. I didn't want to think about my father. That was when I left leaving my thoughts and him behind.

The day it became harder was the day of the fair. If run the three legged race with Timothy because Dr Turner had to deal with a patient. He returned just in time to see us win though. I fell over and hurt my hand so went inside to clean it, he followed me and offered to take a look at it.

I didn't see it coming, not at all. He bent his head and gently kisses my hand. The feeling of his lips, his stubble against my palm, I didn't know what to do. There was only one thing I could and that I was to turn away, so I did.

I told him though that it wasn't because of him. He left just as I turned around again. I felt awful but I knew I'd done the right thing.

It was impossible to ignore each other after that of cause. We worked together all the time with the births in Poplar. When we worked together to try and get the X-Ray van it was a challenge but one we succeed in. When he thanked me I didn't know what to say, I realise I often found myself wordless in his presence, not something I was used to. He held my gaze and I did what I seem to do best, I walked away. I was afraid of what I was feeling, of what he was feeling. I needed time to think.

When I was diagnosed with TB I think Sister Julienne was more concerned than I was. She tried to hide it but I saw the worry in her face as I got into the car with Dr Turner. It was as though she was worried I wasn't coming back at all.

That journey was one of the longest of my life, the time I spent in the sanatorium recovering felt even longer.

I had plenty of time to think there. I had to be sure. I had to know what I wanted.

It was when I got changed into the normal clothes Sister Julienne had sent me, the ones I joined the order in and looked in the mirror that I knew. I, if only for a moment, saw a little girl starting back at me. A girl I had promised everything would be okay. I promised her we would find ourselves one day, somewhere we were loved. Seeing myself in the mirror I felt as though I knew where I belonged and I knew already, I was loved

I hadn't expected him to come and find me on that misty road at all. The way he wrapped his coat around me made me feel safe.

"I know you so little but I couldn't be more certain." The words tumbled out of my mouth.

"I am completely certain and I don't even know your name."

"Shelagh." I said, for the first time, Shelagh was someone I was happy to be.

"Patrick."

The sound of his voice comforted my fears, and I was fine.


	7. Chapter 7

An: Sorry for not updating in while but I've had a lot going on, it's the holidays now so I'll try and get more writing done. Thank you if you're still reading, not sure how much more of this is left, not a lot. Please review and make this girl smile. xxx

XxX

'I can't come alive, I want the room to take me under because I can't help but wonder what if I, had one more night for goodbye?'

Of cause I knew that not every body was going to understand my decision to leave the order, to be honest though I wasn't too fussed what people thought. I knew very well that people could be judgemental, but they could be accepting too. The sisters asked Patrick about me everyday. Unfortunately it took a while for me to come to terms with my new life. I'd started over so many times I wanted to get this one right. I felt bad for leaving my sisters, it was as though I was abandoning them though I was still there. When I saw them at Freddie's christening I kept wanting the ground to swallow me up because I was afraid I had hurt them by leaving them for someone I loved.

Patrick and I were arranged to be married on Christmas eve, young Timothy's idea because he said it would make it even more special, I think he liked the idea of having a new mother. I liked the idea of being part of a family too.

I tried to keep things simple with the wedding, I didn't want a fuss, I wasn't used to being fussed over.

When I left the order all my possessions from when I had joined were returned to me, including the butterfly broach and diary Polly and Chris had given me for my birthday many years before, I'd wondered when I saw the items what had happened to the twins. Where were they now? Did Chris become a lawyer like he'd wanted to be? Did Pollyanna get the big house in the country she'd dreamed of? I looked at the diary again, it was still blank, every page, other than the first. Written on the first in neat handwriting was a message.

'_Dear Shelagh, _

_I hope you have a wonderful birthday, you deserve it and so much more. I hope you fill these pages with the days that are to come, love from Pollyanna.'_

I had joined the order so soon after that that I had never written anything.

When Timothy had been diagnosed with Polio it had been like a blow to the stomach. I felt scared, I was terrified he was going to die. The happiness that had been seemed to be shattered and there was nothing I could do for Timothy or for Patrick. I felt awful because I had found Tim and I hadn't noticed before that he was ill; I kept thinking what if I had done something? My life had been full of so many goodbyes to people and I didn't want another one. Tim was so young, it wasn't right. I wanted to help him but I couldn't. So I left the hospital and found myself being comforted by Sister Julienne. I was shivering, my whole body felt so cold it was as though I was completely empty, I had felt like it before and had prayed I'd never feel like it again. She told me that things would be okay, even if I couldn't see it at the time. I had been worried about them feeling abandoned for nothing, they were very much still there for me.

She reminded me of my mother in many ways, not just because she treated me like a daughter, but her courage and her determination and her love for everyone around her no matter who they were, they were all things I'd seen in my mother...how I missed her, even now.

She was taken from me so suddenly we never got a goodbye, I often wonder what I would say to her if I had the chance to talk to her again, to any of the people who had passed me by in my life leaving footprints in the sands of my memories.

Sister Julienne made sure I got some rest that awful night, she left my side but she came back into the room when she thought I was asleep and watched over me for a while, it was unnecessary but a kind gesture. It made me feel safe and in truth made feel a lot better. My worries seemed to ease and I felt strong enough to be there for Patrick and Timothy knowing they needed me more than ever.

We had waited until Tim was well enough to get married, we wanted him to walk beside Patrick. The wedding was bigger than we'd first planned and the nuns were all invited, I think Sister Monica Joan was excited by the prospect of cake. I remember how the nurses were practising doing my nails at Chummy's house when she arrived with the flowers.

Getting married was a brave thing for me to do, from a young age I was able to hide any problems I might have and move on, I couldn't do that now, Patrick could see if something was wrong in a heartbeat, he wouldn't always ask straight away though, he would give me time and I loved him for that. All of those letters he'd written to me whilst I'd been ill had brought me back to life when I thought I was a ghost ready to fade into the background. It took me a while but I eventually told him everything. I told him about my mother's sudden death, my father's depression and drinking and my years of confusion. I broke down in tears as I told him and he pulled me into his arms kissing the top of my head and I stopped almost instantly because I knew it was in the past and the life I had now was a happy one and I couldn't be more thrilled.

Becoming Shelagh Turner made me happy, I felt I was finally able to think of that little girl and tell her, with a guarantee, that everything would be alright. She would find where she belonged.


	8. Chapter 8

An: so, final chapter. Sorry it's short but I've really struggled on this and not known how to end it. Hope you have enjoyed reading. Pease review xx

'If you're not here to turn the light off I can't sleep, these four walls and me'

I'd always been a light sleeper, after mother died especially. Then when I became a nun and midwife being up early or rushing off to deliveries was part and parcel of my life. Until I'd married Patrick I had always slept alone so it surprised me how quick I got used to having someone sleep beside me.

Some nights when he was out on call I would wait up for him, it was often a difficult delivery and when he returned home of make him a cup of tea and let him vent his frustration. I was a good listener.

I remember the times with my father when I'd sit opposite him on nights he was sober enough to recognise me. He would talk to me for hours about things that made no sense or were unimportant. I never made a comment but that didn't matter. For a short time it was as though I had my father back.

There were nights when I found it hard to sleep without Patrick beside me. I'd often find myself reading or watching my daughter sleep as the fatigue failed to make me drift off.

On the nights when Patrick returned and I was asleep he'd move around the bedroom in the dark as quietly as he could to not to wake our daughter. His presence woke me but I never let. He would slowly and gently climb into bed beside me and hold me close to him. As though he was afraid I was about to disappear. I wasn't of cause. We'd spent so long hiding what we felt, spent too long apart. I would never leave.

I was part of a family who I loved and who loved me in return. I couldn't love Angela or Timothy more. After years of uncertainty I was where I should be and I wouldn't ever leave them. We would never fall apart and break, we would stand by each other no matter what.

I could wake up in the morning and smile because my past didn't bother me anymore. I was completely certain. This was all I would ever need. This family. This life in Poplar. What more could I ever want?


End file.
